


Maybe something new is what you're needing

by okaystop



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings, First Time, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sharing a Bed, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaystop/pseuds/okaystop
Summary: Later, after they've both had a few drinks, Jon realizes he's having more fun with people thinking he and Tommy were a couple than he anticipated. It's looser, less complicated than spending the time meeting people, wondering if maybe someone was interested or not.He can just relax and have a good time.Until they get back to their hotel room and, slightly drunk, Jon stands at the foot of the bed they're going to be sharing, and says, "do you want the right side or the left?"





	Maybe something new is what you're needing

**Author's Note:**

> This is slightly-edited Vietreau chatfic, so it might be a little choppy and definitely contains short paragraphs, etc. Kind of follows the prompts: "LA-era" & "fake dating" 
> 
> Thanks to everyone cheering me on a few weeks ago when I was writing this. 
> 
> Title is taken from the Darius Rucker song "For the First Time."
> 
> \--

Jon stares at the wedding invite tacked up on his fridge, the one he'd RSVPed yes to, with a plus one, months ago, when he still had a girlfriend. Now, a few weeks after they broke up, he was just one, solo. He hated going to weddings alone, this one even more because it was a weekend wedding, with an overnight. 

He doesn't want to go alone and he doesn't have anyone to go with. But he doesn't want to cry off either. Tessa and Wendy were important to him, and he wants to be there for their special day.

Just then his phone beeps, a text. He looks down. It's from Tommy. _Hey man, wanna grab a pizza?_

Jon thumbs a _yes_ and grabs his keys.

Maybe Tommy will have a suggestion, Jon thinks, as he grabs their usual table at their usual pizza place. Tommy walks in a little later, and Jon gets up to give him a one-armed hug, lets his palm linger against the warm space between Tommy's shoulder blades.

"Hey thanks," Tommy says. "I was staring in my fridge and just thought shit, I don't want to eat any of this."

Jon smiles, and they sit and order. "So hey, got a question for you. I've got a wedding to go to, and I already sent a plus one but you know that Kat and I broke up, so -"

He's going to ask if Tommy knows anyone who might like to go with Jon, last minute, so he's surprised when Tommy shrugs and says, "You want me to go with you?"

That didn't even occur to Jon, actually. He sits up a bit, blinks. "You wanna go to a wedding with me?"

"Sure," Tommy sips his beer. "It's the one out in Temecula yeah? Free booze, weekend away, dancing. Plus it's you. Why not?"

It takes Jon a second, and he kind of gapes then grins. "Really? Cool. Yeah, that'll be fun. Thanks, man."

"No problem," Tommy says, then their pizza arrives and the conversation shifts to the Red Sox, the political dumpster fire they're in the middle of, and how many more beers they should have before heading home.

-

On the Friday of the wedding weekend, Jon picks Tommy up, having tossed his overnight bag and suit in the back seat. He adds Tommy's stuff back there too.

Tommy stretches out in the passenger seat, rolls down the window. "If we make good time we should check out the hotel pool before the dinner tonight."

Jon nods and pulls out onto the freeway. "Yeah. Maybe meet some of the bridesmaids, if we're lucky."

A beat, and Jon can't look at his face with his focus on the road, but Tommy clears his throat before he says, "Yeah."

They end up in traffic so they don't make it to the hotel early enough to scope out the pool before drinks with the wedding party and guests. They check in, check out their room - "dude, we have a whirlpool tub and check out the size of this bed" - (Jon forgot he booked a king sized bed) and then go downstairs for cocktails.

"Jon!" One of the brides, Tessa, an old college friend of Jon's, races over to throw her arms around him. "I'm so glad you came." She looks at Tommy, appreciatively. "Oooh, Jonny, is this your plus one?"

"Uh -" Jon freezes.

Tommy sets a hand on Jon's shoulder and stretches the other out to her. "I'm Tommy. Nice to meet you."

Tessa looks at Tommy then at Jon, with this look that's both a little surprised and a little knowing, like it makes sense but is also unexpected. "Well this is wonderful! If you two need anything, let me know. I mean, not me me, but like my best man, Chase. He told me I'm not allowed to make any more decisions."

"Smart man, that best man of yours." Tommy smiles. "Everything looks great here. Congratulations."

"Thank you. Have fun you two," she says, then flits away.

Jon still hasn't said anything. What could he say? Why had Tommy -?

Tommy squeezes his arm and steps away. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jon says. "I - you know she thinks we're together, like. Dating or sleeping together together."

Tommy shrugs. "Is that a problem? I mean it might be fun." Tommy isn't quite looking at Jon but his tone is casual. Mostly casual. He sounds a little nervous. 

Jon doesn't really get what might be fun about it but he doesn't want Tommy to get upset. He smiles. "Sure. You're right. Of course you're right."

"Not hurting anything," Tommy continues.

"Yeah," Jon says, and their eyes meet. The moment feels very intense, and Jon's the first one to look away. "I'm gonna go get us drinks," he says, and quickly hurries away.

Later, after they've both had a few drinks, Jon realizes he's having more fun with people thinking he and Tommy were a couple than he anticipated. It's looser, less complicated than spending the time meeting people, wondering if maybe someone was interested or not.

He can just relax and have a good time.

Until they get back to their hotel room and, slightly drunk, Jon stands at the foot of the bed they're going to be sharing, and says, "do you want the right side or the left?"

Tommy, who is maybe a little less drunk than Jon is, is leaning his cheek against the wall, looking at Jon. "I sleep on the left side," he says.

Jon frowns because he does too, or sometimes he just takes up the whole bed, like a starfish. But this bed is huge so maybe it won't be a problem. "Okay, uh, I can take the right side."

When Tommy smiles and steps away from the wall, Jon swallows. His smile is big and bright and loose. "Then let's get to bed," he says, and he starts to get undressed.

Jon watches Tommy get changed. He thinks about how this would be different if they were together, if they were a couple. If so, Jon might reach out and help Tommy. Might let his fingers brush against Tommy's arm, might undo the buttons one by one and then bend down to taste the pale, freckled skin that's exposed with each slip of a button.

Jon stumble steps back and tears his attention away from Tommy, turns away and clenches his fists in front of him. Right, he thinks, change out of his nice clothes and into what he brought for sleeping. He didn't need to look at Tommy to do all that.

Jon tells himself he didn't have that much to drink and Tommy is his best friend. They've known each other for a decade and he's never before even considered the line of his jaw or the edge to his collarbone or the way he's covered in freckles. It's not like he's never seen Tommy shirtless before. It's not like they've never shared a hotel room.

"Jon." Suddenly Tommy is right behind him, his hand, large palm, spread out against the middle of Jon's back. "You okay, man?"

It takes him a few seconds to answer. He clears his throat, coughs a bit. "Uh yeah. Fine. Sorry. Yeah." He doesn't shrug away from Tommy, but Tommy drops his hand and he hears him walk into the bathroom. He hears the water running at the sink. He hurries and changes into sweats and a t-shirt then climbs onto the side of the bed he's never slept in before and turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

If asked later, Jon will say no he wasn't gripping the sheets that tightly, but it would be a lie. His knuckles are aching by the time Tommy emerges from the bathroom, in boxers and an undershirt. He certainly doesn't watch Tommy walk around to get into the other side of the bed.

Tommy turns off the light on his side, rolls over onto his stomach, and murmurs a "good night" into the pillow. 

Jon finally loosens his grip on the bedsheets, stretches to turn off his light too, and doesn't say anything in reply.

-

Jon doesn't remember falling asleep, which means he also doesn't remember moving so far across that super large bed, right over into Tommy's space like it's the most natural thing ever. Not until he wakes up, slowly, disoriented. 

He finds his legs tangled with Tommy's, one of Tommy's strong thighs trapped between Jon's legs. Their hips are angled together, Tommy bent into John, his cheek tight against Jon's chest. Jon is practically enveloping Tommy, which he wouldn't have thought possible. Tommy has always been, seemed bigger than him.

He's awake now, and he immediately tries to pull away, doesn't want Tommy to wake up and see how Jon had moved over in his sleep. 

Tommy's fist opens and closes against Jon's hip, and he breathes out in his sleep. Jon thinks he might have heard Tommy say his name. He rolls away quickly, like tearing off a bandage, severing all contact with Tommy. He rolls onto his back again, breathing heavily, wide awake now, all white noise and Tommy's breathing pounding in his ears.

Tommy wakes up, lifts his head, confused and still half asleep. "Jon?"

Jon turns his head, cheek pressed into the pillow. "Hey Tom," he says. His voice sounds strange to himself, maybe it's the quiet hotel room, maybe it's because it's the middle of the night, maybe it's because he's accepted that he's going to do something supremely stupid in the next five minutes.

"What time's it?" Tommy asks. He sits up, leans away from Jon to search for a clock or his phone.

"I don't know," Jon whispers.

Tommy turns back to him, maybe a little more awake now. Maybe just a little more interested in the tone of Jon's voice. He reaches a hand out, flexes it just nearly touching Jon's chest, but not quite. "Jon?"

Jon's mind is made up. But he has to know, first. "Hey, why - why did you - when you acted like we were together together, when you let everyone believe that - did you -?"

Tommy's voice is low when he replies. "Yeah, Jon, I did."

Jon stops breathing. That's enough for Jon. He catches Tommy's wrist in his fingers, tugs at him until Tommy slides into his space. 

"I mean, I do," Tommy amends.

Jon nods. "Yeah," he says and even though he knows he wants to kiss Tommy, and he knows that's the next step, the next thing that has to happen between them, he can't bring himself to do it. He doesn't want to ruin the moment or their friendship or the years between them or anything.

In the end, he doesn't have to. Tommy does it for him.

Tommy opens his hand against Jon's chest and spreads out his palm. Jon can feel the heat through his shirt, over his pounding heart. "Is this okay?" he asks and Jon nods because that's all he can do in the split second before Tommy's kissing him.

If Jon had thought about kissing Tommy before, he wouldn't have gotten any of it right. Not the fact that Tommy's lips, slightly chapped but warm, feel like they belong against Jon's. Certainly not the fact that their mouths fit together perfectly. And definitely not the fact that as chaste as this kiss starts out as, it still sends a jolt of arousal straight down Jon's body.

Tommy open his mouth over Jon's, shifts closer until he can curl his hand over Jon's hip, angle himself in close. Jon kisses back. It's immediate for him, a need to know how Tommy tastes, what his tongue feels like sliding in against his, the sound Tommy makes when Jon sucks on his lower lip, tugs it between his teeth.

Spoiler alert: it's a sound Jon will never, not for his entire life, be able to forget.

Tommy slides his hand up Jon's arm, over his shoulder, against his throat and along the side of his neck until he's cupping the back of Jon's head, holding on tight like he never wants to let go. 

Jon's arms circle his waist, pulls him until they're flush against each other. It's just kissing. Slow, exploratory kissing that Jon feels like he could do all night, until the sun rises and he knows everything there is to know about kissing Tommy Vietor.

When Tommy pulls back from the kiss, Jon doesn't want to stop the contact. He opens his mouth over Tommy's jaw, up against his cheekbone. He breathes out against the side of his neck.

Tommy curls his fingers against Jon's throat, lets his knuckles brush the hot skin. "Jon," he whispers.

Jon leans his forehead against Tommy's shoulder and takes a moment. He knows what Tommy is saying without having to hear the words. He nods once, twice. He turns his face and kisses the side of Tommy's neck. Tommy's lips press against the top of his head.

"Tomorrow," he says. 

Jon doesn't want to wait, but he nods. "Yeah, Tom," he says. "Tomorrow."

-

In the morning, they don't talk about it. Over breakfast, with Jon watching Tommy, they don't talk about it. While lounging by the pool with some of the other wedding guests, they don't talk about it. But Jon certainly enjoys openly watching Tommy, and he doesn't care who notices. Especially not when Tommy catches his eye and lets his own gaze roam appreciatively over Jon. 

They don't talk about it while getting ready for the wedding, even when Tommy nudges Jon's hand out of the way and ties Jon's tie for him, fingers warm against his throat. Not when Tommy presses a scolding hot kiss to Jon's jaw then steps back to finish getting ready himself.

They don't talk about it during the wedding either, even though while the brides are saying their vows, Tommy sets his hand just above Jon's knee and leaves it there. Not even when Jon covers it with his own and turns, their eyes meeting.

Later, at the reception, Tommy slides into the empty chair beside Jon, tie undone, suit jacket long gone. "Hey. You want to dance with me?" he asks. He holds a hand out.

The songs have turned from upbeat party songs down to the last slow dance portion of the night, and Jon isn't sure, not one hundred percent. They still haven't talked about it, but Tommy's standing up, sliding his hand along the back of Jon's neck, curling his fingers. 

Jon turns and looks up at him then, wordlessly, takes Tommy's hand and follows him out onto the dance floor. The song isn't familiar, but it's slow and steady, and Tommy presses his thumb against the top of Jon's spine as he steps in close, swaying to the music. It takes a minute, some awkward movements, for them to get comfortable and in sync, but then Jon's hand is pressed into Tommy's side and he's looking somewhere off to the side, past Tommy's head. 

"Hey," Tommy says, quietly. "Look, we can pretend it didn't happen, if you want."

"Is that what you want?" Jon asks immediately. 

Tommy lifts a hand to turn Jon by the chin to look at him. "No, I don't want to pretend it didn't happen. I want it to happen again."

Jon realizes, wildly, that so does he. "Okay," he says, and he almost laughs as he smiles. "Me too."

The smile Tommy turns on him is so bright, so real and genuine, so relieved and full of an emotion that maybe Jon isn't ready to define. "So then how much longer do we need to stay here?"

Jon's eyes widen. "Uh - we can - go soon. I should probably go talk to Tessa and Wendy again. We can - do that now?"

Tommy shrugs. "Let's wait until the song's over." He squeezes Jon's shoulder and leans his forehead against Jon's temple. 

Jon's eyes slip shut and he murmurs an okay.

Once the song ends, Tommy steps back, his fingers dragging down Jon's arm until he could lace their fingers together. They cross the room to find the brides, laughing and dancing themselves.

"Hey, Tessa, just wanted to say congratulations again, to both of you." Jon gives her a hug, kisses her cheek. He does the same to her wife.

"It's a beautiful wedding, congrats." Tommy smiles at them.

Tessa's eyes sparkle. "Maybe you two are next," she says. 

"Yeah," Wendy says. "You are so cute together. Thanks for coming!"

Another minute of small talk and then Jon finds himself being nudged out of the wedding and back to their hotel.

Jon's nervous in a way he didn't expect to be. Tommy keeps their hands entwined as they made their way back to their hotel room, squeezes in reassurance. "Hey. What are you thinking?" Tommy asks as he opens the door and they step in.

Jon closes the door behind him. "How long?" he asks, eyes wide.

As always, Tommy seems to know exactly what he's asking. "I don't know. The day we met, probably."

"Fuck, Tom -" He didn't know. How could he know. "I didn't know."

Tommy shrugs, like it's no big deal. But it feels like a massive fucking deal. 

"Why didn't you say something?" 

Tommy busies himself, removing his tie and folding it neatly into his overnight bag. He hangs his suit coat up too. Takes off his button down and folds that up too. "You're my best friend, Jon. I can live with you as my best friend, but I can't live without you if I told you and you hated me."

"I could never hate you."

Tommy removes his belt too, then sits on the edge of the bed to untie his shoes and take off his socks. It feels so damn domestic, not how Jon thinks a hook up would go. But this - isn't a hookup, he knows.

"We don't have to do anything tonight," Tommy says. "If you're not ready."

Jon feels overdressed but he isn't sure what to do. He leaves himself in his TommyJohns and undershirt. "I don't want to do nothing but I don't - fuck it sounds so dumb to say but I've never done anything with a guy before."

Tommy's face is red, but he's smiling kindly. "That's okay. Just follow my lead and tell me if you don't want something. Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you."

Maybe it's because it's a wedding weekend. Maybe it's because all of this is a rush of emotion that Jon didn't know he felt for Tommy. Jon definitely trusts Tommy. And he definitely wants to so more than stand here talking about it. And definitely more than just kissing.

"Good," Tommy says. He reaches out for Jon from where he's sitting on the bed, until Jon moves to stand in front of him. He presses his thumbs against the TommyJohn on Jon's underwear. He looks up at Jon, licks his lips.

"This okay?" 

Jon nods, puts his hands on Tommy's shoulders. "Yeah."

Tommy grins and hooks his fingers under the waistband. Jon's starting to get hard. Not as hard (yet) as he was last night. But he figures that isn't out of the question, especially when Tommy bends forward, noses then mouths at Jon's cock through the fabric.

Jon's grip on Tommy's shoulders tightens and he groans. "Oh god, Tommy," he says, and that seems to not only get Jon harder but also get Tommy to tug his underwear down. He gets a fist around Jon's dick, solid and sure. 

Jon's chin drops to his chest and he feels like his knees might buckle.

"Still okay?" Tommy asks.

Jon nods.

"Here, get on your back." Tommy is careful as he nudges Jon onto the bed, onto his back. Jon lets him drive the movement, lets Tommy get his underwear off and, with a look from him, removes his own shirt until Jon's left naked on the bed. Feeling vulnerable. He shivers a little. "You too," he says hoarsely.

Tommy knees onto the bed, then squats back a little and takes off his shirt and boxers. He's hard. Jon doesn't know how he didn't notice until now. But Tommy is - hard, his cock thick and red and huge. Jon wants to reach out and touch it, touch him, but he doesn't get a chance to because Tommy moves quickly, bends over and swallows Jon down.

Jon's hips come up off the bed unexpectedly, and he gasps out an apology. But Tommy doesn't seem to care. He keeps going, his hand around Jon at the base, his mouth moving over him. He comes off with a pop and then licks along the shaft, tongue wet and warm. Jon has had many a blow job in his life, but none have felt this good. He instinctively throws his head back but realizes then he couldn't watch. He shoves a pillow under the back of his head, sits up so he can watch Tommy, the top of his head between Jon's thighs. 

"Fuck, Tom," he says. He flexes his hand then digs his fingers into the side of Tommy's head, into his hair.

Tommy moves a little, enough so he can look up at Jon, their eyes meeting, and that's almost enough for Jon to come. But he holds back, enough. Barely enough. "Tommy," he warns, but Tommy just takes him in far enough to hit the back of his throat, holds there until Jon's coming. Hard with a cry of Tommy's name. He twists his fingers into his hair and tries to keep himself from jerking up off the bed.

All of the sounds in the room, including the smack of Tommy's lips as he pulls off Jon, rush into Jon's head until he can barely hear, barely breathe. Jon's gaze settles on Tommy, refocuses in time to see Tommy touch the corner of his mouth, swipe his thumb to catch some of Jon's - Fuck - come and then suck it off.

Jon sits up and reaches out for Tommy. He grips his upper arm and pulls him in, mashes his mouth against Tommy because he wants to taste him, taste himself on Tommy's tongue. He gets his hand between them, hits Tommy's cock with the back of his hand. Tommy groans, shoving his shoulders against Jon's and dropping his forehead to his collarbone. "Shit, Jon, I can't-"

"Let me," Jon says, and he finally wraps his hand around Tommy, palms the head, already hot and wet with pre-come, and uses it to pump him hard and fast.

"Fuck," Tommy says. He's clinging to Jon now, and he comes wordlessly, shuddering as he spurts over Jon's stomach and covering his hand.

Jon gapes at Tommy. "Holy shit. Tommy, wow, I - wow."

Tommy tucks his face against Jon's shoulder. "Sorry, I -" 

"No, it's - wow, Tom."

Jon doesn't want to move. He wants to stay like this forever, sticky and hot and tangled up with Tommy. But he knows he needs to, and he also knows Tommy is wrecked, boneless practically, against him.

He kisses the top of Tommy's head then pulls away. Tommy whines. "I'll be right back," he says, and he pads to the bathroom to clean himself up, comes back out with a warm, wet washcloth. He presses Tommy down onto his back and cleans him up, his fingers and mouth following along.

Tommy whimpers and writhes a bit, and Jon doesn't get up again, just tosses the washcloth away from them on the floor. He slides into bed with Tommy, alongside him. Tommy curls up against Jon's side, presses his cheek to his chest.

Jon lazily runs his fingers through Tommy's hair. This he could get used to, not in a complacent way, but an exciting one. 

Tommy lifts his head and smiles at him, eyes bright but tired, satiated. "Well?"

Jon kisses him. "Yes," he says.

**Author's Note:**

> I always appreciate hearing from you via comments & kudos. <3
> 
> Also, I don't have a podsa tumblr but if you'd like to prompt me for anything, you can [go here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vRLGDsRuzHtsQVH2kKssTWyn-n8goN7th7LJooyWGaAh5dFrY2RD8YzA6Nxwct9jBHiwyUH_OirqWvQ/pub)!


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